


Your Art Speaks to Me

by ChemicalPunkSongwriter



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Blow Jobs, Crushes, First Time, Frerard, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Student Frank Iero, Teacher Gerard Way, Teacher-Student Relationship, Virgin Frank Iero, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChemicalPunkSongwriter/pseuds/ChemicalPunkSongwriter
Summary: Mr. Way had been Frank's crush since freshman year. Even though he sucked at art, Frank kept taking the art class more than required just so he would get to see Mr. Way every day. Mr. Way wasn't the average teacher, though. No, he was young, fresh out of college, and attractive. His crazy black hair and hazel eyes were the center of a lot of Frank's fantasies.





	Your Art Speaks to Me

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a request from someone off of Quotev. Honestly, I never thought I would write teacher-student smut, but since I was asked so kindly I did. It didn't turn out as bad as I thought. And for some reason everything I write turns out a lot frickin longer than I mean for it so I'm sorry! But I hope you enjoy!

        "Frank, may I speak with you please?" Mr. Way called out immediately after the bell rang.

        Everyone else packed up their things and left class hurriedly, leaving Frank behind at his desk. He slowly put everything in his bag until he was the only student left in the class. 

        Mr. Way had been Frank's crush since freshman year. Even though he sucked at art, Frank kept taking the art class more than required just so he would get to see Mr. Way every day. Mr. Way wasn't the average teacher, though. No, he was young, fresh out of college, and attractive. His crazy black hair and hazel eyes were the center of a lot of Frank's fantasies.

        Frank finally stood up and trudged over to Mr. Way's desk. Usually, he would be ecstatic to talk to his favorite teacher, but Frank wasn't having the best day. He told his religious parents that he was gay a couple days ago, and they didn't take it too well. On top of that, he had teenage hormones to deal with and still had a crush on someone he could never have. 

        Over the years, his art has improved, but Mr. Way was probably calling him over to politely say that this piece wasn't Frank's best, and he should try again. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

        Frank slung his backpack over his shoulder, standing in front of his teacher's desk. "Mr. Way?"

        "Frank." Gerard looked up from the painting he was grading and greeted him with his usual smile that Frank loved. "I wanted to talk to you about your latest piece."

        Frank knew it. "Is it not good?"

        "No, no, no!" Gerard denied right away, shaking his head and pulling Frank's work out of the pile beside his desk. "Actually I was kind of concerned."

        "Concerned?"

        Gerard set Frank's piece between them and glanced up at Frank with a sympathetic look, a worried look. "Your art usually has a dark aspect to it, but this is... different. Art shows emotions, tells stories and makes you feel whatever the artist intended you to feel." Mr. Way waved his hands and gestured things like he did when he talked about something passionately to the class.

        Mr. Way paused, looking back and forth between Frank and his painting. He bit his lip. "It's just that this shows anger and sadness. It's dark, and there's no careful technique, Frank like maybe, you didn't care."

        Frank shrugged, looking down at the floor and trying to think of what he should say. "Do you want me to redo the project?"  

        "No, Frank. I just want to know if everything is alright."

        Frank's head shot up in surprise. Not many people showed interest in Frank's problems. He had a friend or two who did occasionally, but not like this. This was an adult who wasn't too involved in his life and could still tell something was wrong. Frank didn't know if he really did care or if he was just trying to be a good teacher, but he hoped for the latter. 

        Mr. Way leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, peering straight into Frank's eyes. Frank felt his body shiver just from the look.         

        "Is something going on Frank? I know I'm your teacher, but if you need someone to talk to, I am here for you."

        There was such a realism in his words. They felt true. Hearing someone he cared about so much saying those words to him, felt more meaningful to him than is anyone else did. Something about Mr. Way's quiet and sweet voice made Frank feel like he could tell him his deepest, darkest secret. Well, maybe not the secret about Frank having a crush on him.

        He wanted to tell someone, wanted to talk about his problems, but at the same time, he didn't want to feel like a burden. He didn't want to open up about his life and then have someone tell him what he should do. He needed comfort, not a lecture. 

        He looked at Mr. Way's glistening eyes. "I'm fine Mr. Way." 

        Frank's small, hoarse voice gave him away. 

        "Frank, please do not lie to me."

        His hand reached over his desk and grabbed Frank's hand, squeezing. Frank held his breath, and his eyes grew wide. Mr. Way was touching him, and the simple touch was sending a vibration through his body. Just the simple touch made his body feel so light.

        Mr. Way patted his back before or his shoulder, but never something this intimate. He never felt Mr. Ways warm hand around his own. 

        Mr. Way seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on Frank. He kept his fingers tightly wrapped around Frank's and continued trying to get the truth out of Frank. "I know it may be hard to open up, but it will take off so much weight if you do. I won't judge you, Frank. Please, pull up a chair. We'll talk. I'll write you a note for being late to your next class."

        Frank felt like he couldn't back out now. He nodded and grabbed a chair from the closest table. He was going to sit across from the desk, but Mr. Way motioned for him to sit on the other side of the desk, much closer together. Frank nervously moved the chair on the other side, sitting next to Mr. Way only a few feet away. They faced each other, and Mr. Way rolled his chair closer, leaning forward as if he was afraid he was going to miss something Frank said.

        They were sitting too close together, and Frank couldn't help the flush beginning to show on his cheeks. He could see Mr. Way's eyelashes, his chapped lips, and the tangles in his hair. He was so tempted to push closer, invade his space just to feel close to him like he always wanted to.

        He couldn't do that though. He could never have Mr. Way like he wanted. The thought made a painful pang go through his chest. 

        "So, Frank. What's been getting you down lately?" Mr. Way asked casually, giving him a small smile. 

        "I - I've been confused. I mean, I've been confused with myself," Frank finally opened up.

        "How so?"

        He swallowed. "Well, I thought it was no big deal before. I thought it would pass, but it only got worse - the things I started thinking got worse."

        Mr. Way's eyebrows raised. "What kind of thoughts are you meaning?"

        God, why did he keep prying?  Frank thought. He really didn't to have this talk with his teacher, his crush, but maybe if he got it out in the open, he'd feel better. Maybe if he was accepted by just one person, he wouldn't feel so bad about liking boys. Mr. Way was an open-minded artist. Surely he wouldn't care if Frank was gay. I mean, he seemed a little gay himself. If there was anyone he could come out to, he would be the best option.  

        "I'm gay."

        Frank came straight out with it, saying it quickly before he had the chance to stop himself. It was out there now, and there was no taking back because he knew Mr. Way heard him. 

        Mr. Way looked shocked for a moment - his eyes wide and eyebrows raised into his black bangs - until he took a deep breath and slowly nodded. Frank hands wrung together in his lap as he waited for a response. 

        Mr. Way smiled and eventually answered. "There's nothing wrong with that Frank. Are you afraid other kids will make fun of you?"

        "No, not really, but I told my parents, and they didn't take it well," Frank admitted sadly.

        "After a while, they'll come to understand you. You're their son, and they will always love you no matter what."

        "You think so?" Frank questioned, biting his lip and looking at Mr. Way hopefully. 

        "Of course. The same thing happened with my parents. After they realized that there was no changing my mind, they accepted me," Mr. Way explained. 

        Frank felt his mouth drop open a bit. Did Mr. Way just say what he thought he said? Did his art teacher just seriously tell him he was gay?

        "A - are you gay?" Frank whispered like it was a secret. 

        Mr. Way giggled and nodded, his wild hair moving with him. "Yes, Frank. I didn't think it would be such a shock."

        "Sorry, I just didn't know. It's - sorry." Frank blushed again, rubbing his hands over his face.

        "It's quite alright. You better get to class, alright? I'm sure your grades are your top priority?" Mr. Way asked in a teasing voice with a raised eyebrow.

        "Of course Mr. Way." Frank laughed as his teacher turned to his desk and scribbled a note before handing it to Frank. Their fingers brushed, and Frank's breathing stuttered. 

        "Come talk to me about anything else you need."

        "I will."

        They exchanged quick smiles, and Frank left the classroom.

 

        Now, that Frank knew about Mr. Way's sexuality, it was like the whole game had changed. It was all he could think about, and he couldn't even sleep without having dreams about it. 

        Frank wondered how Mr. Way came to terms with being gay. How did he discover he was gay? Who was his first boyfriend, and did he currently have one? Would he possibly consider a student-teacher relationship?

        Days spent in art class seemed to be even harder. Sure, Frank always tried to be up close and personal with his teacher, but now, it was worse. He stared at him longer, asked random questions just so they could speak, and started staying to help Mr. Way during his prep period. It was no big deal because the period after art he had P.E. His coach didn't care about his presence in the class since he didn't so much in there anyway.         

        So, he would stay the period after his art class, Mr. Way's prep period, and do whatever was asked of him. Sometimes, it involved cleaning the art room and other times, he would help Mr. Way grade artwork - sitting real close to him and occasionally leaning over his shoulder.

        He had a crush on this man for two years. It was time he did something about it. 

        They were both sitting behind Mr. Way's desk, flipping through students' artworks and deciding which to display on the board outside of the classroom. 

        Frank didn't get much deciphering done; he couldn't take his eyes off of Mr. Way's hands and the way his nimble fingers sifted through the papers.

        "M - Mr. Way?" Frank cursed himself when he heard himself stutter. 

        "Yes, Frank?" Mr. Way responded, not taking his eyes away from the current piece in his hands. Frank recognized the dove painting as someone's from his class - Ray. They didn't talk much, but Frank appreciated a lot of his ideas and thought they were some of the most unique in the junior class. 

        Frank thought about the questions he wanted to ask and took a deep breath. They weren't exactly the easiest questions to ask, especially in school. 

        "How do you, you know, talk to guys? If I like someone, then how do I know they'll be interested in me the same way?" Frank spoke with his head down. He pretended to be looking over the colorful painting on the top of his stack.

        Mr. Way looked up hurriedly with a wide grin on his face. He playfully nudged Frank's side with his elbow. "Oh, Frankie has a crush, does he?" 

        Frank blushed. If only Mr. Way knew it was him. If only he knew that the simple touch between them sent shivers and shocks down his sides. 

        "Care to share?" Mr. Way questioned, still grinning. The piles of artwork were forgotten as he sat on the only empty spot on his desk. His hands gripped the edge of his desk as he leaned forward to look at Frank. Frank noticed how their legs were only a few inches apart.

        "I - I don't know If I'm ready to say just yet," Frank said nervously. He peeked up at Mr. Way through his eyelashes. 

        The teacher tilted his head. "Well, I guess you start off small - get to know them, invite him to do things with you, and compliment him. It's usually pretty easy to tell with guys if they're interested or not. They might get uncomfortable if you try to get close to them or flirt with them, and if they do, then you know they're not interested. But, if they don't seem to mind then you can take things a bit further, start to get close or ask them out or whatever." Mr. Way waved his hand before picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip. 

        "What if it is... inappropriate to like this person? And not just because he's also a he." 

        Mr. Way swallowed and set his coffee cup back down on his desk. He looked at Frank with an inquisitive gaze. "Well, it depends on which way the situation is inappropriate. Sometimes, it can be wrong, and sometimes, it can turn out right." 

        "How do you know which is which?" Frank's eyes met Mr. Way's as he bit his bottom lip.

        Mr. Way seemed to take the gesture as Frank's nerves about the topic, but that's not how it was intended. The sweet, innocent eyes and lip biting were supposed to give him a hint.

        "Why is it wrong for you to like this person?"

        Frank's heart started pounding as he took a short step closer, standing only a few inches away from Mr. Way. He could see the older man tense.

        Frank's voice dropped to a whisper. "He's older, but he's irresistible. Everyone would disapprove because of his job because it would be wrong, but if you feel so strongly about someone, how can it be wrong?" 

        Mr. Way gulped, his throat visibly moving. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his desk, and his eyes were wide. They were so close that Frank could smell the coffee on his breath. "Frank, what are you saying?"

        "I've wanted you for two years Mr. Way. I can't get over you. Please, just let it happen. I won't tell anyone -" 

        "Frank, no." Mr. Way declined sternly, cutting off Frank's words. He slid off of the edge of his desk and stood straight up, putting him and Frank even closer together. "You know that this is wrong."

         "But it's not," Frank whined, his eyes starting to water as he stared up at Mr. Way. "The way I feel about you couldn't be wrong, Mr. Way. Besides, I'll be eighteen next year. We could be together and no one would know. You feel it too, don't you? I know you do. When I look at you, you look at me back like you want me too."

         Frank trapped the other man between himself and the desk. He shuddered when he felt their bodies graze each other. Their chests pressed together lightly, and Frank could feel the instant warmth coming from his teacher's body. Their lower bodies were so close to touching but weren't. He desperately wanted to get rid of the last bit of space between them so their whole bodies would be flush against each other. He bit his lip to keep him from gasping. 

         Frank moved his hands to lightly trace over Mr. Way's taut knuckles. "Don't you feel the same way?" 

         Mr. Way was panicking, twitching at Frank's touch and trying to distance himself, but finding that he was trapped. His breaths were coming out shakily, his face was flushed, pupils blown, and his mouth ajar. He looked terrified like a deer in the headlights. 

         "Frank," Mr. Way began breathily. He closed his eyes briefly. "You need to leave." 

         Frank froze. His heart stopped beating because it felt as if he'd been hit hard in the chest. Was he being rejected? 

         Frank held back tears as he looked at Mr. Way, but the man wouldn't look At him. He stared pointedly at the wall beside them. 

        "Mr. Way?" 

         "Leave Frank," he commanded, his voice deeper and scarier than he ever heard it before. He was always sure Mr. Way had a teacher voice he used to yell at students, but he never thought he'd hear it directed towards him. 

         Frank couldn't speak. He reluctantly removed his hands from Mr. Way's. He grabbed his bag and ran out of the room before Mr. Way could see him cry. Little did he know that Mr. Way was fighting tears as well. 

    

         Frank couldn't bear to face his art teacher, but he still had to go to school and suffer through one period of art. It was almost the end of his junior year. He couldn't afford to miss school due to all projects and finals around the corner. He definitely contemplated not going though every morning when he woke up and remembered his crush of two years so rudely pushed him away. Sure, he was Frank's teacher, but as an adult, he could of at least handled the situation better; Maybe by saying, Oh, Frank I'm so sorry, but it won't work. No hard feelings. Or You're too young Frank. Try again when you turn eighteen. 

        On top of his distress, his parents still weren't talking to him much or treating him like a normal human being. Besides asking Frank necessary questions or telling him to do laundry, they hardly spoke a word to him. He could hear them whispering about him to each other when he was out of the room and thought he wasn't listening. Frank wasn't allowed to go out and spend time with friends, not that he had a lot anyways. 

         His days were spent all the same: wake up, go to school, suffer, and come home. God, school was enough torture by itself. He really didn't need his parents making his life worse. 

         For an hour every day, Frank had to sit at his desk, half-ass his art project, and avoid looking at the man he was once so infatuated with. Frank used to feel nothing but lust when he looked at the man with rowdy black hair, tight jeans, and button up shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Now, Frank felt nothing but hurt and anger. He felt angry at Mr. Way, but he also felt mad at himself for confessing how he felt instead of keeping it inside like he always had.

         He didn't talk to Mr. Way and even tried to not look at him. When he would give lectures or show examples, Frank zoned out and drew hateful sketches in his sketchbook. He didn't call him out on it, however. He let Frank ignore him. 

         After three weeks since they last spoke, Mr. Way didn't try to fix the situation. He would occasionally ask Frank about his artwork like he did all the other students, and Frank would nod or ignore him without as much as a glance. 

         Frank couldn't look into those hazel eyes without feeling utterly broken. What hurt worse is that Mr. Way cared before, but he didn't now. When Frank looked on the verge of tears, his art teacher would always take him aside, ask him if he was okay, and tell him to take a break. That didn't happen these past few weeks, not once. Not even when Frank turned in a drawing of bloody sparrows. 

         It was Wednesday when Frank finished his final project - the last art project of the year that would count for fifty percent of their grade. It was their choice what medium they could use as long as it showed a technique they learned that year, and it was a large enough size. 

         Frank always gave his all on his art projects, especially his end of the year art projects. As you could have guessed, Frank didn't care about anything art anymore. Everything he did would just remind him of his stupid teacher that he adored so much until he painfully ripped Frank's heart to pieces. He wasn't even going to take art next year because of it. 

          Frank decided to do charcoal for his final project. He loved using the dark color and something about smearing around the chalky texture made him feel relief. 

          He was one of the first people done, only a week and a half after the project was assigned. He still had another two weeks till the due date, but he could really care less about his project being perfect. Since he didn't have to try so hard to impress Mr. Way anymore, it didn't matter.

          Now that his last assignment was done, he could find somewhere else to go that period, somewhere where Mr. Way wasn't. 

         That Wednesday, Frank was about to walk out the door when he felt someone suddenly grab his arm - Mr. Way. 

         "May I speak with you, Frank?" 

         Frank followed the sound of his teacher's hush voice. It was the first time Frank saw those bright, hazel in weeks, and they were so close. He hated that he still felt butterflies in his stomach, and he mentally bashed them with a hammer. 

         Frank gritted his teeth but nodded nonetheless. He stepped aside and let the students behind him leave the classroom. Lucky bastards, he thought. 

        Mr. Way waited until all the other students exited the room before shutting the door behind them and walking over to Frank who sat on top of a nearby desk. 

        "I was a little worried - very worried - when you turned your project in so early. Usually, you're pushing the deadline or asking for more time." Mr. Way paused, crossing his arms and giving Frank a chance to speak. When there was nothing but silence, he continued. "I felt even worse when I saw your piece."

        Frank didn't reply. He sat on top of the desk with his feet in the chair and fiddled with the strap of his bag anxiously. He glanced up through his bangs, watching as Mr. Way went over to his desk and picked up Frank's charcoal art. He stopped in front of Frank once again and held up the piece like he hadn't seen it before. 

        "What's the meaning of this?" Mr. Way asked, his voice softer than expected. 

        Frank looked up at the charcoal stained picture full of bitter emotions. The hand in the drawing was a light gray and done in great detail, showing the lines and short fingernails. The hand was squeezing a dark heart - the heart that took almost the entire week to do alone. It looked very realistic and shaded carefully with detailed veins. It was leaking a dark liquid that flowed down the hand and fingers. There were shadows in the background, making it look like it was almost 3-D. Despite him not spending too much time on it, it didn't look like his worst piece by far.

        Frank flexed his jaw and spoke through his teeth. "You say to portray what we feel. That's how I feel."

        He heard Mr. Way sigh as he set the artwork down on another desk. "Frank, look at me." Frank ignored the request. "Frank." 

        He looked up begrudgingly. Mr. Way squatted in front of the desk so he was almost eye level with Frank. Frank couldn't help but feel like he was being treated like a little kid throwing a fit. He probably was seen that way in Mr. Way's eyes, but it's too late to fix his attitude now. 

        "I know what it's like to be a teenager, and it wasn't pleasant. I know it seems hard now, but you'll move on okay? It's the moving on part that makes you build character, get stronger. I don't want you to hurt yourself over something like this."

        The words infuriated him.

        "Why the hell do you care? It's not like this affects you right? It's not like you care how I feel," Frank blurted out, his fist clenched in hatred. 

        Mr. Way was taken aback. He almost looked wounded, Frank thought, like the words had abused him. 

        He locked his eyes with Frank's and didn't move them. "Frank, I do care. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you. It hurts to push you away because I don't want to." 

       Frank straightened his back. The pounding in his chest and the butterflies were getting worse. He didn't know what Mr. Way was saying, but he thought, that just maybe, it would go towards what he wanted to hear. 

       Mr. Way slowly lifted his hands and placed them gently on Frank's knees. He squeezed them in his palms, and Frank could feel electricity flow through his veins. It went through his legs, his hips, and settled uncomfortably in his stomach. 

      "I felt so conflicted all this time, but I wouldn't let myself have it. Even when you told me how you felt, I couldn't do it because I knew it was wrong. I couldn't risk my job or have something like this on my record but... God, Frank. If only the circumstances were different." 

       "They don't have to be different," Frank rushed out, his voice higher pitched than he intended. "We have right now." 

       Frank daringly put his hand on top of Mr. Way's. The sudden heat in his hands felt better than he could describe. He urged Mr. Way's hands further up his legs, sliding them up his thighs. 

       He saw his teacher swallow as his eyes followed the movement of their hands. There was no denying the blush on his cheeks or how his eyes grew dark.

       "Frank," he squeaked. He tried to pull his hands away, but the younger boy wouldn't let him. He gripped his hands tighter and moved them higher. He wasn't going to give up so easily this time.

       "No one's watching," Frank whispered. "Please Mr. Way. Show me how much you care." 

       When Frank looked at him that way - lust filled eyes, licking his lips, and tent forming in his jeans - he couldn't resist. His hands lingered on the boy's inner thighs, threatening to get closer to the zipper. 

       Mr. Way stood, and his hands slipped out from underneath Frank's. Frank looked up at him like his heart had been crushed all over again. He felt disappointed because he thought Mr. Way was pushing him away again when he just said he wouldn't when they were so close.

      However, Mr. Way gave Frank a mischievous smile and turned around to lock the door. 

      Frank beamed and shuffled off of the desk, pushing his backpack off his shoulders. He stood still and patiently waited for Mr. Way to approach him. His lungs were taking in less and less air as the seconds passed. 

     Mr. Way's eyes were scanning up and down his body. He was totally checking him out, and Frank was excited about that. He bit his lip and pushed his hips forward a bit because if Mr. Way was finally checking him out, he was going to give him something to look at. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and held his jeans down just enough to show off a small sliver of skin. 

      Mr. Way took notice right away, licking his lips as his eyes went over the pale skin. He took the last step between them and grabbed Frank's hips without hesitation. He pressed their foreheads together, just enjoying the closeness. 

      Frank wrapped his arms around the other man's torso in return. Their bodies were fully embraced, and Frank quivered. Touching Mr. Way in a way he never assumed he would, felt revitalizing like he was complete now. 

      Mr. Way's body heat instantly enveloped him, and his scent was intoxicating - mint, fruity shampoo, faint cologne, and maybe a little bit of sweat. Frank couldn't get enough. He stuck his face in the side of Mr. Way's neck, inhaling in the smell greedily. Mr. Way chuckled quietly. 

      His hands fluttered up and down the younger boy's back, trying not to lift his shirt or let his hands wander below his waist. A true gentleman, Frank mused.

      Frank traced his jaw with his lips, not kissing but just teasing. 

      "Kiss me?" Frank mumbled. He looked up with begging eyes, their lips only an inch apart. 

      Mr. Way didn't waste any time. He clutched the back of Frank's neck and pressed their lips together. 

      Frank whimpered and grasped Mr. Way's shirt, not letting him pull away. He felt heat spasm through his whole body and down his spine. His heart raced in his chest as he pushed closer although it wasn't possible. He moved his lips against Mr. Way's shy ones. That seemed to be the only convincing he needed because he started kissing Frank more heatedly. 

       Mr. Way didn't force him; he was letting him make all the decisions. When Frank opened his mouth and grazed the other's lip with his tongue, he immediately licked back. Frank moaned when their tongues touched. 

       Before Frank knew it, He was being pressed up against the cold wall. Mr. Way squeezed his thigh in between Frank's, making him gasp and toss his head back against the wall. The simple pressure against his hard length felt mind blowing. 

      "M - Mr. Way," Frank groaned, not even realizing he was doing it. 

      "Gerard." He pressed against Frank harder. "Call me Gerard." 

      "Gerard," Frank repeated. He loved the way his teacher's first name rolled off of his tongue. 

       Gerard nuzzled the side of Frank's neck, mumbling compliments into his skin. "You're so pretty Frank. I couldn't help but want you. You're just so perfect."

       He tenderly kissed his skin and sucked on a sensitive spot on his collarbone that drove Frank crazy. His hips pushed forward, hitting against Mr. Way's at the perfect angle. They both groaned as they kissed messily and shoved their hips against each other wildly. Frank weaved his fingers in Gerard's unruly hair, surprised when he felt how soft the stands were. 

       Frank struggled to detach himself from Gerard, but he needed to before he came in his pants like the teenager he was. 

       "G - Gerard. I need you to do something." Frank focused on his face through heavy lidded eyes. Mr. Way was certainly the image of desire. His eyes stared back into Frank's venomously, his lips were red and shiny, and his hair was even crazier than it was normally. 

       The older man let out a piteous sound before kissing Frank again and then, timidly removing his shirt. Frank gladly raised his arms and tossed the shirt to the floor when it was off. Mr. Way grabbed his hands, holding them out to the side and taking a step back so he could admire the shirtless teen. 

       Frank wasn't having it though. He instantly missed the feeling of another body pressed against his own, and his erection definitely missed the attention. He pushed his hips outward again. 

       "Fuck," Gerard cursed, clearly not caring about his language.

       He slammed their bodies back together. Frank snuck his hands up Mr. Way's shirt and soon enough, tugged it off over his head. 

       He traced his fingertips over the pale skin of his chest, hips, and naval. Mr. Way always hid his upper body with coats, baggy shirts, or his usual shapeless button up, but now he could see and feel the curves of his sides. He was carrying a little extra weight on his hips and lower abdomen. He didn't view it as a bad thing. It was really fucking hot actually. 

       No matter how bad Frank wanted to study every inch of his teacher's body, he knew they didn't have a lot of time, and they both were still achingly hard. Frank ducked down to nibble across Gerard's chest, stopping to create a dark hickey just below where the neckline of his shirt would be. No one would see it, but Frank would know it was there.

        He felt a little scared at first, but he knew he wanted this and could never regret it. The fear of screwing up or doing something wrong didn't matter because he wanted Mr. Way so badly. He rubbed his hand around the older man's lower stomach, feeling the thin trail of course hair there, before slipping down to palm the front of his jeans. 

        Gerard let out a strangled whine. Frank didn't stop. He kept moving his hand and pushed back and forth so he could watch the pleasure on his teacher's face. His eyes were squinted and mouth open. Frank could feel his breath brushing over his cheek in heavy pants. 

        Gerard's hands roamed lower, going into the back of Frank's jeans and squeezing him through his boxers. Frank trembled with pleasure in his arms. He'd been waiting two years for this. 

         When Frank couldn't take it anymore, he took off his own jeans and kicked them out of the way. He didn't even give Mr. Way a moment to move before he dropped to his knees and started to undo the button and zipper of his pants. He could tell Gerard was about to protest, probably to keep up his gentlemanly manners, but he shoved his pants down to his ankles anyway. 

         "Frank, if you don't want to-"

          Frank jumped up and smashed their lips together before another word was spoken. He dug his fingernails into Gerard's shoulders as he backed himself against the wall, completely covering himself with the other's body. 

          Frank moaned into the kiss. The fewer layers between them, the better it felt. 

          "Off," Frank commanded, trying to push down Gerard's tight boxers.

          "Impatient?" He joked, following Frank's suggestion still. 

          The moment the boxers disappeared, Frank gasped and gulped down air painfully. How could he not stare? His hot art teacher was in front of him completely naked with his hard cock exposed. Frank curled his hands into a fist to keep from reaching out and touching. 

          Gerard didn't seem ashamed at all, but of course, why would he be? Frank hadn't seen many guys naked in his life, but Mr. Way was no doubt above average in that area. 

          His hands were shaking when they reached Frank's boxers and gently pulled them off. Frank snapped out of his daze and shook them off his legs, making himself totally bare. 

          They were quiet, but Frank still heard the pained cries spilling from Gerard's soft lips. His hands gripped Frank's hips a little harshly, but he didn't protest. Gerard openly stared at Frank's cock, not even trying to be secretive about it. 

          "What do you want?" Mr. Way asked, peppering his jaw with open-mouthed kisses. 

          Frank thought the situation was possibly backwards; he should be asking Mr. Way what he wanted, but the way his teacher was being so gentle is what made the experience beautiful.

         "Anything. Just fucking anything."

         Gerard smirked as his fingers playfully skirted across Frank's naval. Frank tried pushing forward to get his hands to move where he wanted them, but it didn't work. Frank groaned in frustration. 

         Gerard let his hand drop down lower and lower, torturously so. When his hand wrapped around Frank's cock, Frank sobbed out loud and thrust back into his hand. He'd never been touched by someone else before, and it was so much better than his own hand. 

         The older man stroked Frank's hard and leaking length, biting down hard on his lip to keep from letting out any noises. Not only was he desperate, but listening to the sounds escaping Frank's mouth was very alluring. 

         Frank wrapped his fingers around Gerard's erection, catching the man off guard and making him moan loudly. 

         "Do you think they can hear us out there?" Frank spoke. He didn't think about it till now, but he really didn't want to get caught in the act and get his favorite teacher fired. 

          "No." Mr. Way shook his head. Their hands were still jerking each other. "I want to hear you anyways."

          Frank was confused when Gerard's two fingers prodded at his mouth, but he still let them in. Gerard smoothed his fingers over Frank's tongue, grunting when he started to suck on them. 

          "That's it," he reassured. 

          A couple seconds later, his fingers popped out and took course to someplace totally unexpected. They slid lower and lower until they reached the top of Frank's ass. He jumped when they went somewhere never touched before. 

         Gerard noticed Frank's tense body and wide eyes, and he stopped moving his hand. "W - what's wrong?"

         Frank felt, even more, heat rush to his cheeks because he had no idea how he was going to explain this without it sounding embarrassing. Frank knew what was going on, but he never had personal experience with it himself. Sure, he watched porn and understood the basic of what was happening and what was probably going to happen. Now, it felt really nerve wracking. He was curious about how it felt because obviously, it felt good. Still, Frank never experimented on himself in that area. 

         "I've - I've never um -"

         "Shit, Frank." Mr. Way pulled his hand away and settled for cradling his hip instead. He didn't even think about Frank possibly being a virgin. "You've never done this before?"

          Frank shook his head and chewed on his lips. "I mean I know how it works. I've just never..."

          "You're a virgin? You tried it on yourself before, though?" 

          "N - no." Frank scratched lightly up and down the other man's back, hoping he wasn't losing any of his lust. 

           Gerard most certainly didn't seem bothered, however. He stifled a moan in his throat and looked at Frank with these dark eyes. 

           "Can I try?" He whispered the question in Frank's ear. 

           Frank nodded and sucked on Gerard's fingers once over when they were put back up to his mouth. For the second time, his fingers traveled down his body, but this time they circled around Frank's hole. 

           Frank mewled at the new feeling, his hands coming up to claw at Mr. Way's arms when the feeling became too overwhelming. 

           "Relax, and it will feel better," Gerard instructed, lightly stroking over Frank's hole.

           Frank breathed deeply and slowly loosened his tight muscle. He leaned his head back against the wall and let Gerard take over. His mouth attacked Frank's neck in a hurry, sucking and scraping his teeth over the bruises. Frank was so distracted by Gerard's mouth that he didn't even realize when the first finger started going inside. 

           He twitched and wheezed as his finger slowly started pumping inside him.

           Mr. Way shushed him, his other hand palming over Frank's length while working his finger in his hole. Frank went boneless, and he couldn't manage to do anything else but moan. 

           Gerard wrapped an arm around Frank, supporting him so he didn't fall. Frank whined whenever his hand left his cock and splayed across his back instead. Now, he couldn't focus on anything but Gerard's fingers. 

           He worked in another finger, kissing Frank deeply to help with the uncomfortable feeling. He spread out his fingers, stretching Frank slowly. Even though Gerard wanted to go further, he didn't want Frank to lose his virginity this way, because that was something special. If he was going to be the one to take his virginity, he had to make it special, and it wouldn't be this way. So, he had another plan in his head. 

          He pulled Frank's body closer to his, getting the right angle. Then, the carefully pushed his fingers in more and curled them. He started to pull them out in that curled position until Frank's head tipped back, and his body jolted. The action sent sparks up his spine and blood straight to his dick.  

         "Ah, fuck!" Frank screeched, his hips thrusting forward on instinct. "W - what was that?"

         Gerard chuckled lowly. "That's called your prostate, and it feels amazing doesn't it?"

        Frank nodded. "Can you-"

        He didn't even need to finish his sentence. Gerard thrust his fingers in again, hitting the same spot over and over. Frank was whimpering and letting out incoherent curses.

        His hips couldn't stop moving. He pushed back against Gerard's fingers, too lost in pleasure to think about anything else. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted back against the wall, exposing his throat. 

        Gerard hugged their bodies together, trapping Frank's leaking cock between them. He could tell he was close - his hands clawed at Gerard's shoulders, his hips thrust crazier, and his moans got louder. 

        "Gerard, don't stop," Frank begged, humping his thigh carelessly. 

        "Don't worry, I won't," he said darkly and seductively against his neck. 

        It all became too much for Frank - the constant abuse to his prostate and the warm skin against his cock. He cried out as he came in thick spurts between their stomachs. His whole body felt high from his orgasm. He thought he came harder and longer than he ever had. 

        He opened his eyes and flashed Gerard a crooked smile. It took him a few moments to remember that Gerard was still hard against his hip. 

        "Shit," Frank muttered, taking notice of Mr. Way's heavy, red, and leaking erection. His eyes devoured the sight before timidly wrapping his fingers around it. 

        Mr. Way released a loud moan as he buried his face in the crook of Frank's neck. He pushed back into Frank's hand, letting the young boy know he was doing a good job. Frank felt more confident about his movements, squeezing a little tighter and picking up the speed. He dug his thumb into the slit. 

       "Frankie," his teacher whined against his neck. His hips kicked forward. "Oh, Frankie."

       Frank shivered at the nickname. "You can come for me, Gerard."

      Gerard groaned, releasing on Frank's hand and belly. Frank didn't take his eyes off of him. He didn't know it, but watching his teacher come was definitely something he needed to watch. It was hot. Frank felt his cock pulse even though he just came minutes ago. 

      Frank waited for Gerard to look at him again before licking the white, sticky substance off of his fingers. 

      Mr. Way whimpered, kissing Frank like there was no tomorrow. 

      "We're definitely doing that again," Gerard stated when their lips separated. 

      Frank grinned. With everything that happened, this was the best day of his life so far. Until the next time, they hooked up of course. 

      The older man looked fucked out. He was going to have a hard time hiding his sex-crazed hair, scratches, and flushed skin. Frank had to laugh. Hopefully, the students in his next class wouldn't be too suspicious. 

      Frank thumbed Gerard's swollen lips as the man smiled at him. 

      "Shit. What time is it?" Gerard pulled away, slipped on his boxers, and checked the clock at the front of the room. 

      "Relax." Frank smirked evilly, walking over and taking the pants out of Mr. Way's hands. "We still have twenty minutes till the bell rings." 

      Frank tossed his pants aside and stilled his body by putting his arms around Gerard's waist. 

      "Frank, seriously!" He said exasperatedly. "I have to get ready for my next class."

      "We have time." Frank glanced up innocently before rubbing his already half hard cock against Gerard's thigh.

      Mr. Way peered down in shock. His lips moved like he was trying to find the words to say. Nothing came out for a few seconds.

      "To be seventeen again." Gerard laughed and pecked Frank's lips before getting down on his knees. 

      In Frank's head, Gerard holds the record timing for a blowjob. 

 

      Frank was the happiest he had ever been. His parents and his friends even took notice of the sudden change of behavior. He couldn't deny it; he felt like flying. 

      Through the next couple of weeks, he and Gerard shared secretive smiles and touches in the classroom. They were both busy with end of the year duties, but Frank would still come in during his prep periods sometimes so they could have quick make out sessions. Gerard wouldn't allow them to do anything sexual in the classroom again, saying that last time they were lucky they weren't caught and couldn't risk it again. Frank knew he was right and didn't argue. 

       Still, Mr. Way invited him over to his house, and Frank was overjoyed about that. He swore that as soon as he could convince his parents to let him leave the house, he would. 

      It had been three weeks since he hooked up with his art teacher, crush, in the art room. He decided to redo his final art project, and because of that, it was one of the few picked to be displayed at the school's summer fest. He didn't think it was much of a coincidence, though. 

      Frank was admiring his latest art piece where it hung on display in the school's lobby. He was proud of it for sure, and his parents even seemed impressed. Maybe this would persuade them to let Frank have his freedom back.

      He took a sip from the cup in his hands as one of his junior classmates, Ray, walked up beside him. 

      "Your piece is brilliant Frank. Really. I think it might be the best work you've done honestly." Ray offered him a friendly expression. 

      "Thank you, Ray." Frank smiled.

      "You have great usage of color here." Ray gestured.

       "That he does," a third voice agreed from behind them.

       Frank tried to fight the smile from his face as Mr. Way stopped beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

       "You know emotion I think this work portrays?" Mr. Way inquired, eyes landing on Frank.

       "What emotion?"

       Mr. Way gave him this look of such adoration, failing slightly at keeping things professional. He smiled. 

      "Happiness."


End file.
